


Connected

by faithfulcynic



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-08
Updated: 2014-04-20
Packaged: 2018-01-14 23:49:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1283344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faithfulcynic/pseuds/faithfulcynic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They are trapped apart, but still together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had the idea to write a series of drabbles about Abbie and Ichabod's connection as Witnesses, set after the end of the season finale.

Thomas Jefferson had once said that the most valuable of all talents was that of never using two words when one would suffice. 

It was a philosophy that Ichabod admired, that he had even tried to put into practice on more than one occasion, but in this moment, entombed prematurely beneath an unforgiving earth, Ichabod could not seem to find _any_ words to properly convey his duress. 

***

“Shit,” Abbie said.


	2. Chapter 2

Abbie didn’t think of herself as imaginative, she supposed because she had pushed away the parts of herself that weren’t practical when she’d chosen to lie about Moloch. So she was surprised to see the large plastic teacup had filled with dark water, sediment settled thickly into the bottom of the cup, with a single leaf floating on its surface. It smelled woodsy, piney, and she could see a beetle crawling around the bright pink saucer. 

The girls told her the tea was usually chamomile.

“O-kay,” Abbie drawled. 

***

Ichabod frowned at the smooth board under his fingers where he had expected uneven pine. Then he marveled at the newly pastel hues of his casket and… were those daisies painted onto the wall?

“Ah,” he said finally. “Madness.”


	3. Chapter 3

Of course any passage of time would be difficult to calculate underground, with nothing but the eerie glow of a (possibly) bewitched coffin for aid, but Ichabod believed it could not have been more than one hour since Jeremy had trapped him here. And, frankly, Ichabod was slightly offended at his mind’s inability at restraint. Surely it should have been at least _two_ hours before it succumbed to hallucinations and dementia.

“In my defense," he said, "it has been a rather trying year, what with my resurrection, the constant threat of imminent death, the horrid fashions of this century, the all too brief reunion with my wife, who was then stolen away by the son I had just discovered, who is now the embodiment of War, and has given my beloved to the man I had once named a friend, who is now the embodiment of Death …”

Ichabod paused. “And now I am talking to myself.”

He kicked the roof of the coffin in frustration.

***

Abbie looked away from the dining table, but kept it in her line of sight – she didn’t trust the way the tablecloth was beginning to look more and more like a funeral shroud – and frowned at the other side of the room.

“Did anyone just hear that?” she asked.


	4. Chapter 4

The investigation of the noise – a thudding sound that was a little too Tell-Tale Heart for Abbie’s peace of mind - was somewhat hindered by her sister loudly humming the theme song to a show they used to watch as children. 

Abbie shot her sister a look. “Really?”

Jenny stopped humming. “What?”

Abbie shook her head. “Just … stop for a few minutes.”

Jenny shrugged, just like she used to do when they were children and she was planning on ignoring someone. The child version of herself rolled her eyes in annoyance and Abbie was familiar with that too. 

Two minutes later Jenny was humming again. 

“Jenny!” Abbie and Young Abbie yelled. 

“Sorry,” she said, sounding not at all sorry. 

Her sister had always been a brat.

**

“Oh for Heaven’s sake,” Ichabod protested. “A man should be able to die with dignity! He should not be forced to endure a childish lullaby about literacy ad nauseaum!”


	5. Chapter 5

There was a quote that said patience and perseverance have a magical effect before which difficulties disappear and obstacles vanish. Ichabod definitely agreed with the latter, but found his patience dwindling while his despair grew. He was trapped underground, Katrina was taken, and his son – his enemy was mad. There was no more time for patience. 

But persistence? Ah, that he had in spades. 

Ichabod began attacking the roof of his coffin in earnest. 

___

Abbie frowned at the thud she heard from the floorboard in the center of the room. “Didn’t you say Moloch couldn’t get in here?”


	6. Chapter 6

6.

***

The noise was getting louder and the girls were becoming more scared by the minute, but, for some reason, Abbie …wasn’t afraid. 

Well, maybe she was a little scared, but mostly Abbie felt drawn to the sound. She suddenly had to know what was making it, had to know what was on the other side of those boards. She was _going_ to find out. 

Abbie moved to where the noise was and began prying up the floorboards. The girls shrieked at her, but she ignored them – she was determined. The boards gave easily, being fake, then resisted, having become solid and wooden and nailed shut. Abbie persisted and the boards shuddered as whatever was behind them tried to break free. 

Finally, she wrenched a board loose.

Abbie blinked, then decided to cover her surprise. “Climbing up my apple tree?”

___

Ichabod smiled as she helped him out of the casket. “As usual, Leftenant, I do not comprehend your meaning, but I would gladly suffer any of your jests in place of that casket. How did you know to look…”

He trailed off as he got a better look at his surroundings, a bright room with oversized furniture, toys, false cheer, and two little girls who were watching him with avid curiosity. 

Abbie gave him a wry smile. “Welcome to my corner of Purgatory.”

“My goodness,” Ichabod said, looking around the pink and purple room. “This will surely take all of our resources and cunning, Leftenant.”


End file.
